My friends are exhibiting increasingly odd behaviour. The problem is that they're like kids, I swear as soon as one has done it they all want to. I thought for ages downshifting was just one of those fads that afflicted hippies and people working in the City with guilty consciences.
They are coming out with the same nonsensical hogwash about wanting to give something back, in the way people talk about returning a pair of ill-fitting trousers to the store. Worryingly most of the time they are quite sober, which is all the more disturbing.
You really don't expect friends who have real jobs working in the media to do it. I've blamestormed this and decided that it's all Susan's fault. I swear that girl is incorrigible.
Susan quit her job for a life of leisure, also known as going freelance, although freelancing seems to involve a lot of free and really not a great deal of lancing. What is lancing anyway? Susan is convinced it's the best thing she has ever done.
She keeps calling me and telling me I should quit as well. She's like one of those little devils that sit on your shoulder whispering for you to throw caution to the wind. Lucky I'm totally impervious to her insane advice.
"Are you mad? That's like fast tracking to instant poverty and never passing go again."
"You'll be fine. Look at me, no instant poverty."
"Yeah about that, my guess is that you're secretly working away like the clappers."
"Not true, I'm limiting myself to three days work a week. I'm using the rest of the time to explore myself."
"Explore yourself? Oh come on please, don't talk like that."
"I'm serious."
"Yeah and I'm worried, I can't do what you've done. I'd be too concerned that I'd start wearing sandals, telling people I want to explore myself and have my own expensive yoga mat."
"Gord, you have your own yoga mat."
"OK, but the rest of it."
"Gord you need to let go."
"Yeah, I'm planning to just as soon as I'm 50 old and ruined. Besides your advice is entirely unsound. Look at Adam?"
"Oh hardly my fault."
Sadly this is not true. It's totally her fault. It was Susan's advice that "helped" Adam to make up his mind and quit his communications director job and take a year out. This currently entails brushing up on his French in Paris and chasing around 20-something American girls who are "doing Europe". I'm not against this -- I've always firmly believed that someone should "do Europe". The place is getting out of hand.
Frankly, it's all getting a little 'Lost in Translation' He hasn't bought a yellow Porsche yet, but that's only because he's broke. He's been there a couple of months now and the only thing he seems to have worked out is that doing nothing but acquire hangovers is really a rather enjoyable way of spending time.
He seems to spend the rest of his time sitting in cafes drinking black coffee and reading great works of literature.
The spooky thing is he, and he's not the only one, has turned into one of those amnesiacs who seem to have forgotten that they wanted to do these exact same things when they were in their twenties. You know the type, they wore too much black, smoked too many cigarettes and basically tried to affect a "too cool for school" demeanour.
When I get the latest news on the phone he tells me he has even started smoking again.
"Don't you find it a little scary that you have totally reverted. And you're even smoking again, what's that about?"
"Smoking is cool, I enjoy it."
"You'll start writing bad poetry any day now and tell any girl who will listen to you that you're working on a great unfinished novel detailing the decline of European civilisation."
"That was you."
"Damn you're right, but still you're heading down that road and you're 35, it's got to stop."
"I'm having fun. I can't remember the last time I did this. I should have downshifted ages ago. What's your problem? Are you worried it's catching?"
You know I think that's what it is exactly. I am totally worried that it's catching. I mean think about it? No don't -- you'll be typing a resignation letter before the day is out.
What I am not jealous of is the others at the other end of the scale, who instead of opting for a holiday life have opted for something quite different. They have taken or are considering the downshifting route to misery.
One friend has sold his flat and become a motorcycle courier. He's gone all leathery and beardy but then his taste in music was always terribly eclectic. It's weird to see. Another, Marcus, is going further still and considering becoming a teacher. Could you think of anything worse? Motorcycle courier is one thing, but a teacher? OMG, that's just the height of insanity. I'm convinced I can save him by entering into a rational discussion, if not I plan to simply shout.
"Sorry, I think I misheard you, I thought you said you were thinking becoming a teacher, which would of course make no sense."
"I did."
"OMG, a teacher, are you insane?"
"No, I'm serious. I need to do something different. I'm tired of all this. I get nothing out of it. I want to do something where I give something back."
"Donate to charity. Take a holiday, chase women you are too young to date, or make a fool of yourself some other way. That way you will get over it, but teaching? That's the road to madness, well if not that at least alcoholism and depression, both of which are terribly unhip."
"I feel unfulfilled."
"And your problem is?" I shrugged my shoulders. "You get well paid."
"I know, but I always thought I'd be a good teacher," Marcus said, smiling kind of dreamily, the way insane or happy people do.
Do you see the problem? It's the same with all of them, they're overcome by this slightly dreamy view of life elsewhere. It doesn't seem to matter if you tell them the grass is no greener on the other side, that in fact it's more scorched earth with burning tyres, they just don't see it.
"A good teacher?" I nodded. I didn't what to be too critical, you know worried that I might tip him over the edge. "But have you thought about the kids? They'd try to deck you and generally make your life a misery -- that's their job, the parents would be worse."
"I'm pretty sure that's exaggerated. I'm looking for a creative exchange of ideas."
It was at this point that I had to scratch my head. I had to start to wonder if he had actually been to school, you know like ever, because from what he was saying it didn't really sound like he had. A creative exchange of ideas? I mean seriously whoever heard of it.
The Demographic Shift is a regular column on Brand Republic as Gordon MacMillan charts his own demographic timebomb.
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